Brothers of the Blade
by Angel Commando
Summary: Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow centered poems.
1. Brothers of the Blade

Any innocence they held since they were children  
Has long since fled them.  
It has melted into the age of childhood,  
Which they discarded behind them like old skins.

Demons chase their every step,  
Hound their every move.  
No human should ever fight them alone,  
Yet they slice with blades forged of hatred and sorrow.

There are two of them.  
Brothers bound by a strong friendship.  
Kinship.  
Duty.

Each brother,  
Representing a pact made in blood,  
Representing a side of the sword. . .  
Each brother lies on a different side of the fight.

The first brother seeksrevenge.  
Chasing demons and dragons of his hate.  
But how much does he really know?  
What is the goal he yearns for?

Yet the other,  
He holds a voice of his own.  
More fluid than any language --  
He lets his actions dictate his own speech.

They are known as brothers of the blade,  
Formed with pacts as strong as chains.  
They believe in the other --  
No matter how much their animosity grows.

Shinobi desire what they can never have.  
A hated four-letter word they strive for.  
L-O-V-E  
Love to help them grow stronger despite the ages.

Shinobi are quiet, calculating and cold.  
Accurate, cold-hearted, and strong.  
They are everything,  
And just as elusive as the shadows they hide in.

Each brother respresents a side to the shadows, and the light.  
Yin.  
Yang.  
Good and evil.

One dresses in black, but his eyes are trained only to the light,  
Hoping, wishing,  
Dreaming and wanting.  
Everything he can't have.

The second dresses in white, but sees only the darkness.  
Revenge. Hatred.  
Sorrow and frost.  
He holds himself to the dark depths of his demons.

Destiny and Fate are twisting creatures,  
Weaving threads into a tapestry,  
Holding mortals to their end.  
No human may dare ask what they have in store.

Yet the brothers stand,  
Voices ringing against their rules,  
Breaking their chains.  
These two brothers will not lie low.

It is unknown on whether or not the brothers of the blade see the light as one.  
Only they are certain if they see the same things.  
Their lights may be different,  
Thrown into shadoes of white, gray, and black.

No matter how many duels the brothers encounter,  
Where steel meets steel,  
Flesh and bone blend together,  
They are evenly matched -- and only for one reason.

No matter how much one side of the blade may hate the other,  
They are forged of the same steel.

No matter how much one side of the blade wants to strike the other,  
They are bound to stand back-to-back.

No matter how much both sides of the blade may wish to be free from the hand that controls them,  
They hold the same hilt.

Light and darkness co-exist on the same plane,  
One can never exist without the other.  
Brothers forged of the same blood and steel are the same,  
And will always remain as such.

No matter the fate that awaits them.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Alright, I know I already did this, but I couldn't help but re-do it. I saw it, and I was thinking, I want to make it a bit less choppy -- so here you go. I got some positive feedback before, and I hope to be doing more re-vamps. Also, guys, be patient with me. I recently found new inspiration after a long drought, and I should be making my own fanfiction about GI Joe soon. . . Although it will be staged in the Sigma Six-area. 


	2. As One

Aw: Well uh, I wrote this today and I wanted to post it up for some unknown reason. This is a bit confusing in general, but it's once again in third person view and is slightly different from my first one.

* * *

A heart quivering in anger,  
The other beating in sorrow.  
A heart crying in furious rage,  
The second weeping from loss. 

They are one in the same,  
Beating in unison to their footsteps,  
Echoing the others' thoughts,  
Existing eternally on the same plane of life.

Yet how is it possible that they are different?  
Promised in blood, flesh, and soul,  
These hearts are far from being one.  
How is it so?

Draped forever in a white cloud of fury,  
A single heart quickens in anticipation,  
Seeing an unwanted wish,  
Crying for freedom from imprisonment.

Sorrow leaks from the second,  
Coloring the fragile soul a deep, hurt shade of blue.  
Yearing for the day when they will become one once more,  
Whenhe shall be free from the chains of memories binding him.

Betrayal.  
Misunderstanding.  
Hatred.  
Forgiveness.

Can nothing forgive the sins?  
Words sharp as a new blade,  
Impaling the docile heart of the other,  
But never killing him.

No matter how much he may try to,  
The heart of the other will not die.  
Neither will he fight back against the pain,  
Causing the first heart to feel unwanted feelings.

The second is full of patience and sorrow,  
Knowing that praying to the Gods will not be enough for redemption.  
How can he heal him,  
Without unjuring what is left?

The white cloud of fury cannot hide the memories inside,  
And such a fool for thinking he can erase his true memories.  
Blind to the truth and spouting lies that prolong the inevitable,  
The memories are locked away by chains of unbreakable revenge.

How long will it be until they can finally share the bond they once did?  
To become one with their thoughts and souls and emotions?  
A mountain of sin, they say,  
Has to be conquered by hearts beating as one.


	3. Hate

Aw: Yep. This one just smacked me in the head as most of my other works happen to do. I'm modeling it after a poem I had written one night when I was a bit angry. Here's the next one!

* * *

The warrior stands alone.  
Never feeling and unreachable to emotion.  
But how much turmoil is evident in his mind?  
In the most forbidden place to all those who try to breech?

Horrible snickers of memories glint back at him insanely.  
you can never erase them for they are a part of you -  
And yet a voice whispers among them, demonic and horrible.  
- just as i am and you must accept me for i am you.

No matter how much his heart aches to feel as he once had, he knows he cannot.  
laugh at your petty weakness for it is only dragging you down -  
He can only feel one thing now, and nothing else.  
- that is right admit that and all will be in your grasp.

Hate.

He hates his brother, and yet he loves him,  
no, you must never love if you want to reach revenge -  
And yet the memories of the past scream in his mind and prevent him from loving.  
- follow me and i will lead you to what you most desire.

He still sees blood on his hands,  
the blood will make you strong and invicible -  
And in secret he shudders at the strength the demons inside him possess.  
- i am no demon i am you as you are me.

He questions himself,  
never doubt me for i am your power -  
But his will never falters and it quickly stops him  
- i will never allow you to dispose of me never

How long will these demons cloud his mind?  
as long as you live i will be here and i will prosper and thrive -  
When will he finally know how long this hate will last?  
- i laugh at you now for doubting me and scorning yourself

Hate forever wraps his heart in an unreachable place  
i will guard you against those who oppose you -  
Making him bleed while cruel thorns forever impale it  
- when you bleed you get stronger and strength fuels you

Wearily he sighs, closing his eyes and banishing the demon for now.  
But he knows it will not last forever.  
It lives inside of him,  
In a place he can never reach.

Hate is eternal,  
and yet it is nothing.

It breathes flames in the soul,  
Craving blood and refusing to stop when it is statiated.

Hates exists nowhere,  
and yet it is everywhere.  
Hate lasts forever,  
and yet it does not exist.

He knows it is inside of him,  
Breathing fury and rage inside of him.  
How long?  
How long until it is free?

How long until it finally destroys him when he can no longer control it?


	4. Life's A Gamble

SOD: He he. . . Sod. Funny. Anyway, this one hit me when I was chatting to somebody over the Web. Names are classified. But maybe the title for this poem will give it away.

* * *

Nobody knew that he secretly gambled. 

His mind,  
His soul,  
His body,  
. . . His entire being.

He stares the devil in the face,  
Listening to cruel taunts,  
Feeling the sting of the world,  
His punishment for his addiction.

It wasn't always this way.  
He didn't always gamble.  
He wasn't addicted to the dice.  
Actually, he had been a better person.

But then one day the devil challenged him.

"One toss. One toss." He told him,  
Four dice and two pairs of hands.  
"One toss. Highest wins. The stakes-"  
But he hadn't heard anymore.

Already his hands were taking the dice,  
Cool and heavy in his palms.  
The devil smiles,  
But it is a grin that makes him nervous, edgy.

But already the devil throws his toss.  
But he cannot see what the devil has gotten.  
Not yet, anyway.  
And his opponent looks to him, and he knows he must go.

His hands throw,  
And the dice clatter.  
But something is wrong.  
Both stare at the result.

_Snake eyes. _

He pays for his mistakes,  
And his life becomes horrible.  
Destiny leaps out of his control,  
His choices are not his own.

And he stands at the table where the devil and he played,  
Gathering the dice and throwing again and again.  
But each toss is the same.  
He cannot scream in frustration.

Snake eyes.

Life has dealt him a blow,  
And now he has become addicted.  
He cannot stop -  
He was foolish enough not to listen.

"One toss. Highest wins. The stakes are your life."  
This was what the devil has said.  
He did not listen.  
He was stupid enough to throw his life away.

And so now he dresses in black.  
His blades are sharp from the pain of his sorrow.  
And nobody knows.  
Nobody knows what he carries.

He carries the name he recieved.  
Snake Eyes.  
And there is a pouch on his leg, which he carries something cubic.  
He carries the dice the devil gave him.


	5. The Duel

SOD: Hey all. I've entertained this idea for a while - so I finally decided to make this one!

* * *

They stand together.

On a cliff,  
Desert sand swirling around their legs,  
Two immobile statues -  
They are frozen in the grasp of time.

One is wearing black,  
The other white.  
One is masked,  
The others' eyes exposed.

Eyes stare at each other,  
A hard, predatory glint to them.  
Eyes are a window to the soul -  
Yet these statues ignore the pain they see.

They are dueling,  
Yet they do not move.  
This is not yet a battle of physical strength.  
Not yet.

The duel has only just begun.

They remember when they were children -  
The bond of brotherhood so closely treasured,  
It is now draped around them like a ghost.  
Memories swirl around them, like the desert dust.

Here they are not enemies.

They are brothers.

Here their dreams collide.  
Their ambitions meet -  
But only they can tell who is stronger.  
As Shinobi, this is the only way.

The statues stare hard and long,  
Unblinking and unmoving.  
This is their world.  
The battle of souls is their life.

The statues move,  
With deadly grace and skillful tact.  
They are mirror images of themselves.  
The setting sun glints wickedly on their blades.

Their swords connect.

The duel has begun.


End file.
